Next Great Adventure
by Grey-Wizard77
Summary: War was forced upon me, by virtue of my birth, by prophecy. War has brought me here, to the end of my life. Ended by the very man who took my parents sixteen years ago, Lord Voldemort.
1. Chapter 1

*I am making, nor am I attempting to, make any money from this play in J.K. Rowling's World. Enjoy."

Chapter 1

War was forced upon me by virtue of my birth, by prophecy. War has brought me here, to the end of my life. Ended by the very man who took my parents 16 years ago, Lord Voldemort.

Looking across the clearing of the Forbidden Forest, I can see him smiling, beckoning me forward with a motion of his finger. Normally my scar would be searing with pain at the sight of him, But tonight, the pain was only a dull thud. He begins to speak to his gathered Death Eaters, I can see his lips moving, but the words don't reach my ears. All I can hear is the rushing of the blood rushing in my ears with every beat of my soon-to-be still heart.

Stopping before him he stares me directly in the eye. Slowly a smile stretches across his reptilian face and I become acutely aware of the Elder Wand lightly gripped in his right hand. Time slows when you raises the wand towards me. He begins to wave it in a pattern I recognize all to well, the killing curse. With a final viscous slice, the bright green bolt of death magic races towards me. My last thought is of those I'm leaving behind to finish this monster.

Consciousness comes to me rapidly, I open my eyes to an assault of bright white light that forces me to shut them tightly and curse under my breath. I quickly realize I'm not alone when chuckling reaches my ears. The sound makes my eyes fly open, I know that mirthful sound. Sitting up and twisting quickly when I comprehend that the sound is coming from behind me, I see a familiar face, Dumbledore. Even from this distance I can see the twinkling in his eyes, The sight of him brings tears to mine.

I stand quickly amongst the protests of my abused body and I turn to face him. Thoughts and questions run quickly through my mind, there are so many things I wish I could ask him, tell him, but it seems that I can not get my mouth to co-operate with me. Even so, he beats me to speech first.

"Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, grown into a man that I am so proud of."

"Am I dead?" Not the most eloquent thing to ask I know, but it was all I could come up with and it seemed as good a place as any to start.

His smile begins his answer and he speaks again: "You have left you physical body. So perhaps the answer is yes, but you have yet to journey on to the next world, so perhaps the answer is no."

Even in death his doublespeak gives me a head ache. "What do you mean, where are we?"

Looking around as I ask this, I notice that white is all that greets my eyes for as far as I can see.

"We are in the In Between, the space before death but after life. Most people never see this place, for most of us, myself included, we journey straight to the Gates and begin the next adventure. But you Harry, have been allowed here in order to make a choice."

He pauses and seems to concentrate for a moment before two chairs form out of the Ether next to us. He motions for me to sit and I ease myself down into the chair as he does.

"What's it like beyond those Gates Headmaster? What am I about to walk into?"

"Heavenly Harry, simply heavenly. But it is my sincere wish that you do not see the other side of those gates until you're man older than myself."

He cuts off the question that was about to spill from my lips with a raised hand and continues speaking.

"I said I was here to present you with a choice. The powers beyond us mere mortals have decreed that, if you wish it, you are to be given another chance to end your war, to save more people, to prevent so many tragedies. I have been told that war will still come, no matter what you do. But even so, you can a have a real chance to save our world. To change it for the better. You can have the chance I never gave you. By trying to allow you to enjoy your childhood for as long as possible. By not allowing you under my wing earlier. By trying to hide things from you. I robbed you of that. I am as much guilty for the devastation of the war as Tom Riddle is. And for that I am truly sorry Harry."

Looking him in the eyes, seeing the pain, sorrow, and regret swimming in them, I reach out and place my hand on the old man's weathered paw. He gives a sad smile to me and pats my hand lightly, as if afraid to hurt me further.

"Headmaster, I forgave you long ago."

Standing from my chair I walk a few steps away and then turn to face him again. Speaking as I do.

"How do I take this second chance? Do I go back to my body and finish him?"

"Not exactly Harry, you will go back to your body, but just not the one you left. The powers have decided to send you back, not to your body, but back in time. To a point where you can truly begin to make changes, both to yourself and our world."

I had already made up my mind to take this chance, I couldn't live with myself knowing I left my friends behind to face him alone. But I wasn't expecting this! So many things I could change!

"To what point would I be sent back? My eleven year old self wouldn't be able to make many changes for a few years. My two year old self even less."

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head and spoke.

"No, They didn't tell me exactly when they would be sending you back, but the said it would be some point in your fourth year. I believe this is a pivotal moment in which many great changes can be made in a short period of time in which you could affect the world positively."

Competing in the Tri-Wizard Tournement again, at the very least I could save Cedric. At the most I could stop Voldemort's resurrection. Not to mention all the things I could change in the following two years.

"Alright, seems a good spot to start. Do you have any advice?" The old man usually had a good word or two to impart.

"Seek me out as soon as you go back, tell me everything. Tell me of the prophecy, of the Horcruxes, the final battle. If we work together in a more coordinated effort, we can enact much change in the year leading up to Voldemort's resurrection."

"Alright Headmaster, but one more thing, how are they? My parents, and Sirius?"

Smiling, he answers: "They are so proud of you Harry and they wish to see you only when you're an old man. They wish you to have a long and loving life. If you and myself can make the changes that we need to, you will."

"Well, I assume you know my decision." He nods as a door materials behind him, it opens to a scene of the Fouth year boys dormitory at Hogwarts.

"Go Harry, be strong. And remember, even when it seems darkest, the night always ends."

Giving the man one last nod, I step through the door and back into life.

Onto my next great adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

Just to reiterate, I am not making any money from this frolic in J.K.'s world **.***

I awoke slowly after stepping through the doorway. I lay there in bed for a moment, taking in the sounds of the dorm room, mainly Ron's snoring. Calmness had settled into the room, crept into every corner and made its home in these spaces. Breathing slowly I allowed the calmness of the room to invade me, to soothe me. Only hours before, to me, I had been fighting for my life, fighting to save those around me. Fighting to protect all I had. And now the universe has giving me a chance to fight again, to fight better. I'm not going to run from this. I'm not going to shy away from my destiny this time. I am going to fight harder, longer and better. I'm going to save them.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I ease my way out of my bed. I need to go see Dumbledore, I have to make him believe me, I am going to need his help. Darkness still owned the room, the sun had not yet decided to rise above the horizon. Looking out the window I could parts of the castle that had, mere hours ago, been smashed and crumbled nearly beyond recognition. Standing, I pad my way out of the dorm and down the stairs into the common room, thankfully it was empty and I made my way out of the common room without incident.

The Fat Lady made a sound of protest as I opened her portrait and stepped out into the candlelight of the corridor. The snoring of the portraits met my ears as I floated my way to the Headmaster's gargoyle. Strangely upon reaching the creature it simply nodded it's head and slid out of my way.

Nervousness seizes me as I climb the circular staircase to his door. What if he doesn't believe me? He hasn't seen what I've seen, not yet at least. He has no reason to believe me, as far as he's concerned I am nothing but a barely fourteen year old child. Stopping in front of his door, I take a deep breath and knock.

I can hear shuffling from behind the door as I am told to enter. I take a deep breath as I grab the handle and twist.

Several hours later I find myself standing next to Dumbledore in his pensieve. The fact that the Headmaster hadn't simply just sent me away astounded me. He had had no reason to believe me, but he listened to my tale. I told him everything, From Sirius' death, to his death, to my own. Right now I find myself standing in the memory of his death, watching in silence as I watch Dumbledore nearly talk Malfoy into lowering his wand. Movement catches my attention as my of memory of Snape enters the room, his strides purposeful, but knowing what I do now, I can see the regret in his eyes. I examine this time period's Dumbledore as he watches his own death. I see the flash of green out of the corner of my eye as memory-Dumbledore falls from the astronomy tower.

Pulling my head from the basin I look over to the face of Dumbledore and I see the years of his life weighing heavily in the creases at the corners of his eyes, in the stoop of his shoulders, in the hunch of his back. I've never seen him look older than he did in that moment, even at the time of his death, a youthful hope seemed to cling to him. Now however, it seemed as though all that was left was doubt and regret.

"Harry, nothing I can say will ever make this right. I have no words of comfort to give you." Even his words seemed older, as if reverberating from an ancient speaker that had corroded from years of disuse.

"But know this Harry, we will make this right. It is obvious that I made mistakes in your life, both before and after his resurrection. This time you wont be alone. I'll stand with you, I'll fight by your side. This time we will fix mistakes already made, and hopefully we will prevent new ones."

Nodding to him, I speak: "What about Crouch Jr? What should we do about him?"

"I believe our best course of action is to let him believe he still has us duped," He cuts off me off before I begin by the raising of a hand. "To intercept him now, would be to tip our hat. We have a decided advantage over him. We can feed him whatever information we want to, and when the moment comes we can use him against his master. We must allow him to believe his identity is uncontested."

I hate the idea of allowing him free reign of the castle and the students, but the headmaster is correct. Having an agent of Voldemort so close could be used to our advantage.

"Headmaster, what do we do in the interim? Actually now that I think about it, I am unsure as to what date it even is. Have I've been selected to compete yet?"

A nod of his head is the answer I receive before he begins to speak again.

"Sadly even though your name was fraudulently entered into the cup, it was your hand writing upon the parchment. The magical contract was sealed, you must compete."

"Damn, I was afraid of that. I was hoping that I might be sent far enough back to prevent my name from being entered into the cup."

"Perhaps this can be worked to our advantage again, if we allow you to port-keyed to the graveyard again, then maybe we can stop Voldemort at his weakest. And expose as many still-loyal Death Eaters that we can at the same time."

"So you intend to use me as bait?" I can't help but let a little contempt into my voice as I reply. I don't exactly fancy the idea of being used like a worm at the end of a hook.

"It was only a suggestion Harry. Right now we have the luxury of time to prepare and decide on our final strategy. As it happens, you being entered into this tournament gives us another advantage. Champions are given an exemption of exams for the year that are selected in so that they may use all the time they can in order to train and prepare for the challenges ahead."

I think I know where he's going with this so I cut him of.

"In other words, I can hide training for the war behind the guise of the tournament?"

"Precisely, now the rules of the competition prevent myself from directly training you as I am a judge for the events. However, I can and will loan you many texts on a wide variety of magical arts, both in combat, and in less violent pursuits. As the year, and you, progress I believe we can also arrange for outside tutoring in order to perfect the skills you are surely going to acquire over the coming year."

He rubs his face and sighs before he speaks again.

"Harry, it was never my intention for you to be drafted into this war, I never wanted to make you a warrior. I wanted you to be happy, to be free of the burden of the prophecy. I have already failed in this once, I won't do it again. We will make it so that you can enjoy life after the war. But we won't put your life on hold, remember who you are and who you are fighting for. Remember your friends and keep them close. They will be what makes the fight worth it."

Nodding to him, I stand and make my way to his door again I place my hand on the handle and turn back to him.

"Headmaster, you never failed me. You tried to give me a real life, fate conspired against you. This time, she's conspiring with us. We will succeed this time, you have my word."

I left him then, slowly making my way back to the dorm and to my bed. Many things rested on mind and shoulders, but the old man was correct. We have time to plan and work. This isn't perfect, but together we can make changes, and we will. Together we will stop this monster for once and for all.

My last thoughts as I laid my head down upon my pillow again were not of death and destruction, but were of life and hope. Fate has given me another chance to make this right. I won't waste it.

A/N I just wanted to address a comment made by a reviewer, which I appreciate very much. This reviewer stated that s/he was happy that I didn't send Harry back to his first year. I chose his fourth year because I feel that any earlier than that and not many effective changes can be made quickly, plus I would feel weird trying to write the basis for a romance when Harry was that young.

Oh and another side note, I am going to conveniently forget that Harry and Ginny ever had a romance at all. I feel that their romance adds nothing to the overall cannon and if you read the story without it, it doesn't change the story at all. Shitty epilogue not withstanding. Thank you all for reading, favoring, following, and reviewing. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N First off, I would just like to thank you all for the support in the form of reviews, and addition to favorites and follows. Makes me feel like the words I am typing onto this computer might actually be better than shite. So again, thank you. Also I must add the during the week, updates will not be as frequent, this will probably be my only one till next weekend. This is due to the fact that I am indeed an adult with real adult things to do, as sad as that is. Oh, and as always, I'm not making any money from this.

The next dawn came quickly, and with it came the whispers and stares. Funny thing this time around though, is that they aren't bothering me. Even Ron's, who's hurt the most, just roll off my shoulders. I guess after being abandoned by him during the hunt, nothing he can will phase me again.

So this is how I find myself in the Great Hall, isolated and alone. This suits me just fine, I need time to think about how I'm going to proceed. I need to go to the Room of Requirement and see how well I can cast all the magic I knew from before. Granted that isn't much, but it's better than if this was a cold start.

Movement catches my attention and my eyes dart to the doorway just in time to see Hermione Granger enter the Great Hall. Normally my heart would be light when I would lay eyes upon her, but this time is different. This time a deep dread gripped my heart and drug it down into the deepest circles of Hell. If I were to be exposed to Dementors right now, I don't know what sound I would hear. My mother's scream's, or hers. I refuse to be that powerless again, I will save her. I will save all of them.

Memories best left untouched are forcibly pushed aside as Hermione, against current social conventions, takes a seat next me. The smile on her face is a bright beacon against the storm that is my life right now. I leaned heavily on her the last time, hopefully she will be willing to stand with me again.

"Harry, I believe you. It's obvious not many other people do, but I believe you. You wouldn't go looking for trouble like this." Its a simple statement, but I know she means it wholeheartedly. The dread, with it's stranglehold around my heart, loosens as I watch her. In this world of impossible things, of ghouls, goblins, vampires, werewolves. She has always been a constant. A single figure in which I can depend on, she truly embodies the best parts of the four houses. Even for her faults, she has always stood by me and defended me. She has saved my life so many times. Soon it will be my turn to save hers. Hers, and so many others.

"Thank you Hermione. This is nothing new, it's just like second year all over again isn't it?" I let a small smile cross my face and she gives me one in return

"I guess you're right Harry, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

"Thanks Hermione. You have no idea how much that means to me."

The sound of an amplified throat being cleared catches the room's attention and we look to the head table to see the Headmaster bring his wand down from his throat.

"Good morning to you all, it is my pleasure to make an exciting announcement this morning." He pauses in order to build the requisite tension, the man and his damn flair for the dramatic. "There is to be a formal ball, open to the Fourth years and above, held here in this very room on Christmas day!" He smiles as excited voices ring out through the hall. I swear I can almost here the nervous sweat the just formed in the boy's palms as the realization sunk in that they would have to dance, and therefore, ask a girl out.

I had damn near forgotten about the Ball. Against what I know of my future, and my past, it seems so insignificant. Being a champion, I'm going to have to attend again. The idea doesn't appeal to me all that much. At least this time, I actually know how to dance. At least this time, I'll hopefully be going with someone that I'll actually have a pleasant evening with.

"Hermione," My voice catches her attention and her head swivels back around. "Do you want to go to the Ball with me?"

A raised eye brow is the only indication of surprise she gives. "Well, if you're the early bird, I guess that makes me the worm."

A smile grows from my lips and I give her my reply. "If that means you'll say yes, then I guess you are the worm."

Her laughter fills the room and drowns out the background noise of the hall as I focus solely on her. She has no ideas the lengths I have gone for her. The lengths that I would a million times over. Just so that sound can be a part of my life. She truly is my best friend. I pray she never see's the person that I fear I will have to become to protect her. The sounds of her screams return and reverberate around the musical qualities of her laughter. The two sounds go to war for the forefront of my attention. One sound, I will take lives to protect. The other, I will take lives to never have to hear again.

My thoughts must have flashed across my face, because her laughter fades away in that moment. And with it's departure, her screams fade from ears. I look up from the food that had appeared on the table. I can the concern etched across her face and I give her forced smile.

"I was just thinking about Padfoot, Hermione. I was thinking that he would love to be here for the Ball and to see me compete. Even if the competition was forced on me." The lie comes easily enough. One day I'll tell her truth. Sooner, rather than later. She deserves that much. But now isn't the time. She deserves to not have to have knowledge of the future on her shoulders. She already puts too much on them herself, I don't need to add to it.

After Hermione agrees with me about Padfoot, we eat in a comfortable silence. Earlier thoughts do not return to plague my psyche, and I eat my fill. Hermione stood to head off to class and nudged me on her way up so I would go with her. She had quite the fit when I told her that I was exempt from classes for the year. Watching her work herself up into a frenzy always entertained me, and now was no different. She wouldn't leave until I told her that Dumbledore had arranged for me to receive tutoring and lessons so that I wouldn't fall behind in the curriculum.

So this is how I find myself alone in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I stand and visions of the triage areas swirl before my eyes. I can see them, all of them: the dead, the dying, the dismembered, the insane. I can see the devastation brought to the castle herself, the holes in the walls, the crumbled pillars, the dust. I can feel the dust on my skin, I can feel it entering my lungs with every breath. The tickle in my throat so very real as I stand in the empty hall. Looking down I can see Remus and Tonks, laying side by side. My thoughts turn to Teddy, growing up with out his parents, knowing them as heroes, but never knowing them as people, or as his parents. To my left I can see the assembled Weasley's standing above the body of Fred, cradled in George's arms. Tears sting my eyes as I stand amongst the assembled fallen and falling. Walking amongst the memory, the shades of survivors turn to look at me. Even amongst so much death and decay, I can still the see the hope, burning so brightly in their eyes. Even in memory, the hope is so very real.

Just as I reach the door of the Great Hall a hand on my shoulder pulls me from the landscape of my memory and into a Great Hall untouched by the consuming fires of war. A Great Hall that hasn't yet been soured by death.

Tracing the star patterns up the sleeve attached to the hand on my shoulder, I meet the eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry you seemed a thousand years away."

"Only three Headmaster. I could see them, the dead, the broken, people who are going to die unless I fight harder."

"I see the casualties of both my wars Harry. They have faded with time, but they are still there. Just waiting for me to let my guard down. To bring decades old guilt back to the forefront. To see them doesn't make us weak, it reminds us of what we fight for, of who we fight for. For me, it is to make up for so many mistakes and missed opportunities. For you, they represent a true chance to erase that ending from the future. To move on beyond that and to a future mad brighter. We mustn't ever forget that Harry, for it is these memories that will guide us."

Wiping the tears from my eyes and breathing the last of the dust from my lungs with a sigh, I pull away from the Headmaster and look out the corridor in to the passage.

"Headmaster, do you know where the Room of Requirement is?" It seems almost comical to ask, but even simple things escape the notice of the great Albus Dumbledore.

"Indeed I do. If I were to come looking for you, is that where I can expect you to be?"

I respond to him with a nod and leave him in silence as I depart for the Room.

I quickly make my way through the halls, sounds of battle following me, and reach the Tapestry.

After thinking of what I need I step through the newly materialized door and into a large room decorated with targets of all sorts, small, large, human in shape. I take a deep breath as the door seals behind me. Time to begin.

A/N I really hope the interactions with other characters don't seem forced, I seem to have trouble writing dialogue, its almost as if I can't capture the essence of other characters. So far, Hermione is very hard to emulate. Dumbledore is easier, but only just. Again thank you all for your support, and have a great week.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N So I found the time today to type this up, but this should be the last update until the weekend.

Hours later, and I find myself covered in a layer of sweat and dust, real dust this time. Surveying the damage that I inflicted on the Room I feel a sense of emptiness. Even with the knowledge and abilities of my original time line, it isn't enough, not nearly enough. This time however, I have time. That, and a rather large collection of books, courtesy of the Headmaster. I must admit, the man is good, the books were here before I was.

Banishing the grime from my body, I open the tome on the top of the stack, "One-Hundred Spells Every Duelist Needs," and begin to peruse the index of spells and their descriptions. Selecting a bone breaker curse, I set myself to practicing.

The weeks pass as the first task of the tournament looms ever closer. Honestly, the tournament hasn't been on my mind as of late, its just a backdrop to the real challenges that lie ahead. Besides, Hermione is doing enough worrying for the both of us, bless her. I have to ask myself if I'm committed to winning this tournament, or if I'm just going to stick to the middle of the pack. If I make it to the cup first, and Crouch Jr. is still around, it will force the confrontation with the in fetus-like Voldemort, or do I let another champion take it. Almost immediately I discard that idea, allowing one of them to take it most likely means I would be sacrificing them to the anger of Voldemort in that graveyard. The memory of the phantom of Cedric Diggory asking me to return his body to his parents plays behind my eyes.

This is how I find myself once more in the Headmaster's office.

"How do you think I should handle the tournament? The idea of letting one of the others being port-keyed away doesn't appeal to me in the slightest."

Dumbledore leans back into his chair and looks me in the eye.

"I agree Harry, from my own knowledge of the man, and what you have told me about the graveyard, I doubt Tom would react very charitably to his unexpected guest."

Stroking his beard in thought, he continues.

"However, sending you again to that graveyard would endanger your life as well, and Tom could, once more, regain a corporeal form. I feel that that should be our end goal, prevent him from gaining a body."

"I'd rather be the one in that graveyard. Better me than one of them. At least I would have a fighting chance. I would have a good idea of what I would be waiting for."

He makes a sound of thought and then speaks again.

"I believe that our course of action should be one to give them the outcomes they expect and want, at least until the final task. We still have the advantage of knowing what they are planning. If we deviate from what they expect now, they will change tactics, and then we will lose that advantage. I think our best course of action, for now, is to play their game. Let them think their plan is proceeding how they want it to."

He makes a valid point, right now I know how they're going to play this tournament. Looks like I'm in this tournament to win it.

"Alright Headmaster, I'll play into their hands. In the mean time, I think we should find a way to either capture Voldemort in the graveyard, or even just disenchant the Cup before I get to it."

"Indeed Harry, I do not intend to send you out into that graveyard ill-prepared, or even at all if we find a different way to stop him."

"Well then, I guess this means I'm flying against a dragon again." I let my tone inform him just how exciting that idea is to me. His reply gets me thinking.

"Not necessarily Harry, I don't think the method of winning the tasks matters, as long as you win. I'll be willing to bet every pair of woolen socks I have, that they are only planning on you winning. Not that you will fly against a dragon."

He has a point, they couldn't have predicted that I would fly. Crouch Jr. probably only suggested the idea as a last resort to ensure I won. Even he played me to my strengths.

A knock on the Headmaster's door draws the attention of both of us as he invites the knocker in. Severus Snape glides through the doorway, into Dumbledore's spaces. Seeing him brings mixed emotions to me. Part of me still wants to hate him, to see him broken and bleeding. But a different part, a much larger part of me, knows that he protected me from so much, that he risked so much for me. I see Severus Snape in a different light now, I may never seek out his friendship, but the man has earned my respect.

Snape's face darkens when he lays eyes on me.

"Professor Snape, what can I do for you?"

Dumbledore's voice draws his eyes away from me, his voice draws out his reply.

"Headmaster, I had wished to speak with you privately, away from students."

I look to Dumbledore and he gives me a slight nod, seems my time with him has come to an end for now. Standing, I exit the way Snape entered. After shutting the door behind me, a growl from my stomach reminds me of the neglect I had put it through for the last few hours. Allowing my stomach to guide my steps, I head for the Great Hall. Dinner should just have started by the time I get there.

As I walk the halls, I find my mind conjuring up the faces of those I've lost. This happens often, most times I can feel the memories surfacing before the images begin, like now. Other times, however, the images strike me fast, leaving me raw and exposed. Almost as if a cutting curse had been used to peel the skin from my muscles and I had been left as carrion for the birds. Each memory adds another bird to my body, I can feel myself sagging under their weight. Each face that flashes before my eyes is like the beak of vulture. Tearing and cutting, twisting and ripping. This torrent of memories always leaves me drained. More birds join as my memory reaches the Final Battle.

"Harry!" The voice grabs my attention, and the birds flee from it. As if an explosion of sound and sparks had startled them away. I allow the memories of war to scatter with the birds, and a smile emerges onto my face as the owner of the voice runs up next to me.

"Well hello to you as well Hermione." She has a smile of her own to match my own.

"Are you heading to get dinner?"

Another growl of my stomach answers her question and her laugh rings about the hall.

"I'll take that as a yes. Come on, sit with me."

She wraps her arm around mine and she sets off towards the Hall. Its the moments like these that I live for, just the small moments with my best friend. I can almost forget about Voldemort, the war, all those who I've lost. Even before the second war began, I could count on Hermione. I feel that I will need her more than ever over the coming months.

Reaching the hall, she releases my arm and we walk in together, taking our now usual spots at the farthest end of the table. The food was already on the table and we both begin to load food onto our plates and then into our mouths. Well, I loaded, she spooned carefully.

The pattern of the last few weeks continued. Most of my day was spent in the Room training, learning, and reading. I could imagine that from the outside, the rate at which I was devouring the material would be impressive. To me though, it wasn't enough, I wasn't learning fast enough, I pushed myself to my edges, then jumped off them.

Dumbledore though, had come through with his promise of tutors, even if I was surprised when I saw who my first one was.

I dove out of the way as three low angled stunners zoomed through the space my head had occupied only moments ago.

"Very good Harry, I'm sure your speed will come in very handy throughout the course of this tournament." Professor Flitwick smiled as he sent two more stunners at me.

Grunting as I threw myself to my left, I could feel the energy of the second stunner bleeding through the air as it passed, mere millimeters from my chest.

I threw up a shield and allowed his next stunner to bleed into it, now it was my turn. I snapped off lengths of chain in his direction, his diminutive size made him hard to hit, but my large lengths of chain should be enough to catch him.

Should was the operative word in that sentence. I threw myself to the ground as the chain was banished back at me. Another hastily summoned shield saves me from a slug-spitter and Jelly-legs jinx. He's going easy on me, the thought makes me angry as I close my right eye and cause a blinding flash of bright light in front of him. Shutting my now overwhelmed left eye, and opened my saved right eye, I send more chain his way.

Seeing both his eyes closed I figured I had him, but shock envelopes me just like my chain that he banished back at me. Wrapped up and unable to move, he easily summons my wand from me. Just me being tied up was enough to declare him the winner, he was trying to prove a point.

A few moments later find him and I sitting in front of a comfortable fire enjoying drinks, a Firewhiskey for him, and a butterbeer for me.

"How did you know I sent those last lengths of chain at you? I had blinded you."

"Indeed you had blinded me Mr. Potter, but you had only taken away my sight. In your excitement, you forgot to sub-vocalize your spell. Just because I couldn't see, didn't mean I couldn't hear. A wide area gust of wind was enough to at least stop your chain."

I curse myself under my breath, and the professor leans forward and places a small withered paw on my shoulder.

"Don't be so harsh on yourself, you fought well. That trick probably would have worked on anyone else, whether you had sub-vocalized or not."

I nod to him, but I can't help but feel shame and defeated. I take some comfort however, in the fact that Professor Flitwick was a champion duelist for a reason.

"Thank you for dueling with me Professor, you have no idea how much it means to me."

"Mr. Potter, I should be thanking you, it has been far too long since I had been in any form of dueling. Our bout has me thinking about returning to the circuits, and seeing how I stand up against this generation of duelists. You duel remarkably well for you age, take pride in that."

I give the man my thanks and he reminds me to get some rest as he leaves for the evening.

Several days later and I find myself standing in an all familiar tent. This is the first time all the champions had been together since the weighing of the wands ceremony, days ago. Funnily enough, Rita Skeeter wrote almost the exact same article, if my memory of it serves me well.

I am brought out of my musings by Ludo Bagman entering the tent. I see the bag in his hands squirming, the miniature dragons inside, begging to be released.

"Gather around champions. Inside this bag is your first obstacle. Each of the four dragons will be guarding a nest of eggs in which you must claim the fake egg and escape. Points will be awarded for style, flair, time and overall condition of both the champion and dragon upon the exit of the champion. Any questions?"

Four shaking heads are his answer.

"Well then, lets begin."

The bag starts on my right, with Fleur Delacour. She once again drew the Welsh Green. My heart leaps with surprise when Krum draws the Horntail. The bag passes to me, my heart begins to beat faster and faster as my hand enters the bag. Even through my glove, I can feel the serpentine form of my dragon as it curls into my palm, seeking my warmth. Pulling my hand from the bag, the Chinese Fireball locks eyes with me. The look in it's eyes doesn't sit well with me. I'll have to change my strategy. Good thing I didn't count on fighting the Horntail.

A/N

I'll leave the First task for the next chapter, which will be out this weekend. The response to this story has been unbelievable! I never expected anyone to even actually look at this, much less enjoy it. I hope you enjoyed the dueling scene, even if it was short. I enjoyed writing it. I tried to bring a bit more dialogue into this chapter, just to get out of Harry's head for a bit. My Harry isn't going to be perfect. To me he should be more damaged after the events he went through, and in this story he's going to be. He's a war veteran who's willingly going back to war and I'm going to try and portray him as such. Again thank you for all the support. I really appreciate it. I'll have another update soon.

Grey-Wizard


	5. Chapter 5

A/N I would like to again say thanks to all of those who have stuck with this story and to those who have reviewed. I hope I can write the following scenes as well as they exist in my head. Again, I am making no money from this venture. Enjoy.

Dealing with dragons is never easy, and now is no exception. I had considered flying again, but the idea didn't appeal to me. I really didn't want to risk it again. The air is their domain, and last time I escaped pretty much unscathed through dumb luck. That's a common theme for my life, I've been far too lucky for my own good. I can't count on that anymore.

I bring myself back to the present and let the noise of the crowd die away until it just me and the Fireball left. She's smaller than the Horntail that Krum faced just moments ago, however she looks far more agile. She sports an overall thinner body and less muscle mass, but when you consider the fact that I'm just some puny human to her, less muscle mass is no consolation. Even with her physical deficiencies, she has the longest range with her flame, able to both breathe a column of fire and also able to spit great spheres of flame.

She crouches low over her nest of eggs, the golden egg is raised slightly higher than the other five eggs arranged around it. Since being able to simply summon the egg would put a hamper on the whole "lets watch the champions fight dragons for eggs" thing, there is an anti summoning ward over the nest. If I can get it out of the nest I can summon it all I want.

I decide to try a little diversionary tactic and send red sparks off to her left. The sparks themselves fail to grab her attention as they whiz past her snout but the large explosion they cause next to her gives me the moment I need to slide in behind a nearby rock, as her attention to me waivers. Being behind a rock does break her line of sight with me, but it also breaks mine with her. The application of a clearview charm to the back of the rock fixes my problem and I watch as she moves her head back and forth, scanning for me.

They must have warded the stands against the onlookers scent saturating the arena, damn. I hadn't counted on her catching my scent with all the people in the stands, but she obviously does as her eyes lock onto the rock I am currently hiding behind. She gives me only moments to dive out from behind my cover as she douses the entire rock in a large gout of flame. I am forced to admire the molten mess she leaves behind as it sizzles and oozes on the ground. She must of seen me dive for this rock as she envelope's this one in flame too. Luckily her attacks aren't silent and I'm able to extricate myself from the blast zone quickly.

I'm running out of rocks quickly and the idea of just running away from her just doesn't sit well with me. I raise a wall of water as she spits another tower of death towards me. I'm treated to the sauna experience of my life as her fire boils my shield. I wasn't sure my shield was going to hold, but it does. Her flames subside and I drop my shield. Now its my turn.

Dragons are known for their skin's natural resistance to magic, that's why its coveted so badly for protective equipment for duelists, thugs, and aurors alike. What many people don't realize about dragonhide is that this protection is only offered when the skin is more than a few centimeters thick. While dragon skin is far thicker than this over most of their body, there are a few spots where their skin is paper thin. Mainly on the joints of their wings, and in the creases of her legs, right on the joints. This is my avenue of attack.

Spotting the largest joint on her left wing, the one closest to her body, I send a bonebreaker straight into it. I can almost feel the bone explode, sending fragments shredding through her wing and into her side. She roars in pain and falls to her left side, exposing the clutch of eggs. I rush in but I don't anticipate her getting up so quickly. Her front foreleg nearly catches me and I'm forced to flatten myself against the ground. I try to get up but her other clawed-paw is trying to decapitate me. Another grunted bonebreaker is sent straight into the crease of her foreleg, effectively ending the usefulness of the limb.

By this point I am only feet from the clutch of legs and I quickly close the gap, grab my golden egg and scurry away. This is where I made my mistake, I turned my back to the dragon in my rush to escape and I don't have any warning as her tail catches me, throwing me into the air.

I barely have time to bring my arms up to protect my face and chest as I impact on a rock. I hear more than feel my left arm shatter. I hiss in pain and the now egg falls from the grasp of my now useless arm. Standing quickly I face the beast. She doesn't look good, and I'm sure I don't look much better now. Taking my eyes from her a moment I see that the egg is only feet from the exit, a quick banisher sees it the rest of the way out and I focus solely on the dragon. Part of me considers killing it, sending bonebreaker after bonebreaker until it bleeds out. Dragon hunters use a similar technique, however they quicken the process, using multiple spellcasters to put the beast out of it's misery. The spell is on my tongue, ready to be launched, until I really look at the dragon.

She's in terrible shape and in so much pain, I can see it in her face. She isn't here willingly, she didn't come here to kill me. For all she knows, shes only protecting her clutch of eggs. She isn't the monster, I am. The organizers of this tournament are the monsters. She doesn't deserve the pain I've put her through. Her eyes meet mine and I see the fear in them, fear of me, fear of those around her. The anger leaves me, I have no desire to harm this beautiful creature any longer. I lower my wand and slowly back my way out of the arena, keeping my eyes on her.

Upon entering the tent I allow myself to fall to the ground in a sitting position. Now that the adrenaline has left my system, I can feel the injuries that the dragon inflicted with her tail. My left arm is shit, the bones will have to be vanished, and based on the difficulty breathing that I'm having, I suspect that I may have broken a rib or two when the egg crushed against my chest.

Three ribs, turns out I broke three ribs when I impacted the stone, two were cracked and the third was severed completely. I was right about my arm too, the bones had to vanished, along with the severed rib. Luckily the rib didn't get shot into a lung or my heart. Sadly this means I'll be spending a few days here in the infirmary becoming addicted to bone regrowth potion.

The sound of the hospital door opening causes me to look up and I spot Hermione making her way over to me. Uh oh, she doesn't look to happy.

"Harry James Potter! What in Merlin's name possessed you to use such cruel magic against that poor dragon! Bonebreakers to her leg and wing! She'll be lucky if she ever flies again!"

I have to stifle my annoyance and separate out the fact that this isn't the Hermione who fought a war with me. She hasn't seen what we did, she hasn't done what we had to. Hopefully she never has to.

"I regret it Hermione, but in my defense the beast was trying to kill me. I could have done much worse to her, she could of not come out of that arena alive at all. I didn't kill her because she was forced into this competition like I was. She didn't want to be there anymore than I did."

She sighs and looks down and runs her hand over my fleshy mass of boneless arm.

"So tell me Hermione, have they branded me an animal abuser yet?"

This sets her off again, damn me and my mouth.

"Hardly! They are parading your name out there like a hero! Like your Saint George reincarnated! Slaying the dragon and saving the damsel! Ron was the worst, he couldn't stop spouting to anyone who would listen just how amazing his best friend was."

"Hmm, how is our, vacant from my life, other best friend?"

She gives me a look but answers anyway.

"He seems to honestly want to make it up to you and be a better friend. At least he said as much to me. Do you want me to tell him to swing by when I see him later tonight?"

I shake my head in the negative and speak.

"Let him come to me Hermione, if he's sincere he'll seek me out. I don't need to chase after him." She doesn't need to know just how little I value Ron's friendship and loyalty.

"If you say so Harry. How long is Madam Pomfrey keeping you here for this time?"

"Only a few days, just long enough to allow my bones to regrow, its amazing what a few potions can do, even if they taste like they came from Buckbeak's rear end."

She makes a face of disgust but laughs anyway. They sound brings a smile to my face.

Our chit chat is allowed to continue for a few moments longer, right up until the nurse comes out of her quarters to shoo Hermione away, citing my need for rest. I can't argue with her, the quicker I'm asleep, the quicker I can forget about the taste in my mouth.

Several days later I find myself in the company of one Albus Dumbledore in his office. This is the first time I've seen him since the challenge.

"I must say Harry, your actions toward the Fireball were most violent."

"What can I say Headmaster, I've already told Hermione that I regret it, that's the truth. But the damn thing did try to kill me, repeatedly."

"Indeed, the dragon handlers weren't too pleased with the condition the dragon was in at the end of the task."

This gets my temper to rise slightly.

"Well I wasn't too pleased with being pitted against a dragon! Again, I might add."

"I wasn't criticizing you Harry, merely relaying information. I know you could have done much worse. The bonebreaker you used was straight out of the dragon hunting book I loaned you with the others."

I nod and lean back in my chair.

"It was, so you know I could have done much worse to the dragon, its lucky I didn't try the acidic version of the conjunctivitis curse. I just didn't want to see it's eyes boiled out of its head."

Its his turn to nod.

"The dragon was lucky that you could show a modicum of restraint."

He pauses and pops a lemon drop into his mouth, I wave off his offer of one and he takes that as a sign to continue talking.

"On to the real reason I asked you up here. I wish to ask you to bring another into our circle. To let another one in on your secret. I believe this individual having some idea of the future will prove beyond invaluable in the weeks, months, and years to come."

I have a good idea who he is referring to and I voice it.

"I assume you're referring to Snape."

He nods and I keep speaking before he starts again.

"I have already given the idea thought and I do agree that it could provide another advantage. Given that he is receptive to the thought that I know his secrets. When he gave them to me the last time, he was near death. He gave them to me in his last moments to show that he was truly trying to help me, but he won't be near death this time. He may react badly."

"I think that is a risk we must take. I will secure a vow a secrecy from him, if that will put your mind at ease."

A vow wouldn't be foolproof, veritaserum or a powerful enough legilimens would be able to pry the information out of him, but it would be better than allowing the information to be freely running about in his head.

"Secure his vow, and we'll bring him in."

"Excellent, allow me to summon an elf to inform the Professor that I wish to see him."

I take the few moments that Dumbledore is using to summon the elf, to decide what memory I'm going to show Snape. I had indeed thought about it a few times, his death might work, but he could just dismiss that as the day dreams of a student who, by all accounts, wouldn't mind seeing him dead. No a memory of my future won't work, but one of his past should.

Dumbledore dismisses the elf with his instructions and the turns back to me. I'm already pulling the memory from my temple as he begins to speak. Instead of finishing the question that I had anticipated, he simply brings the basin of his Pensieve to me, and I drop the memory into it. The bad taste in my mouth as I watch the memory swirl in the basin isn't bone regrowth potion. Its the taste of a bad gut feeling.

A/N Well I said I would have this chapter out on the weekend, and it might be 10:12 PM on Sunday, but thats still the weekend. So I win. I had fun writing this one. I truly hope you will have fun reading it!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N So where to start? I'll start here: when I started this story a year and a half ago, I had no intention of abandoning it. I'm in the military and I was stationed to a post that had very intermittent internet access. I couldn't really use it to upload, so I stopped writing. Flash forward about 6 months to July of 2016. My orders switched and I was to report to Washington State. I made it as far as 40 miles west of Kentucky. I was hit by a dump truck and was nearly killed. My left leg had to be amputated. Flash forward another 7 months, to today 19JAN17 and I am back to work and I'm stationed near home. So I decided to pick this story back up. To any readers who have followed this one from the start, Thank you deeply, and I'm sorry.

The bad taste in my mouth persisted as I watched Severus Snape slide his way in to the room.

I could feel his probe scanning my surface thoughts as we made eye contact. Without making an outward movement, I swatted his probe away. If he was surprised, only the slightest raising of an eyebrow gave the emotion away.

"Good evening Headmaster," Snape turned away from me and faced Dumbledore as he addressed him.

"May I inquire as to why you have summoned me?" Dumbledore smiled and the twinkle in his eye was as bright as ever when he answered.

"Good evening to you as well Severus. And of course you may ask. But I think it may be more prudent to have Mr. Potter here explain it to you."

I'm not nearly as good at hiding surprise as Snape is, and my head snaps away from Snape's face, to Dumbledore's.

I hesitate for a moment before I turn back to Snape and begin to speak.

"Professor, you aren't going to believe what I have to say. So, before we continue, I ask that you watch the memory in the pensieve.

Snape looks from me to Dumbledore. At Dumbledore's nod, he turns his back to me and submerges his head in the pensieve. Knowing that we have a few moments before Snape emerges, I focus my gaze back onto the Headmaster and begin to speak.

"I hope we know what we are doing. I know you trust him, and I know that all he was trying to do was protect me. But I still feel apprehensive about this."

Dumbledore turned his eyes to me at the sound of my voice and gave a small nod at my voiced concerns.

"I recognize that your history with him isn't the most pleasant relationship two humans can have. He has his faults, as does everyone. I, however, do not believe this to be a mistake. His knowledge of future events may allow us to prevent the death of many, and to also help predict any changes from your timeline to this one."

I nodded and conceded to his greater wisdom and sat back in my chair and locked my eyes on Snape's back, waiting for the memory to finish.

The memory I chose was very dear to him, and not in a positive way. I picked the memory of him sobbing and holding the body of my mother on that fateful Halloween. Out of all the memories he had given me, this would probably be the best to convince him. Anything after this point, he would chalk up to a teenager's vivid imagination. Anything before this point, wouldn't be personal enough. He would just say that someone else had passed the information onto me. He was the only living being in that room besides myself as an infant, there would be no way I could remember that.

My musing were interrupted as Snape's form rose from the pensieve and stood rigid. He turned around slowly, almost reluctantly, to face Dumbledore and I. His face had turned a shade of pale I didn't know was humanly possible and it seemed like he had lost the ability to speak. I took the initiative and started to speak first.

"I know that memory is powerful for you. I know its painful. That memory was passed onto me by you, moments before your death." He looked directly into my eyes and I allowed the mental probe past my shields, I allowed him access to my memories, all of them. I subconsciously followed him through my recent memories of my second Fourth Year. He traveled farther back, past the dragon battle, past my original meeting with Dumbledore in this body. He hung on that memory long enough to hear it and continued his journey. He listened to the last time Dumbledore spoke to me in my original timeline, in the In Between. He passed through to the final battle. He watched as my friends and family fell one by one. He watched as we cut the Death Eaters down in turn. Finally, he came to his own death and held there. He watched, over and over, as he cried that lone tear and passed his memories onto me.

"You have your mother's eyes." Those spoken words snapped the spell loose, and I was back in the Headmaster's office.

"You have your mother's eyes." As he spoke the words a second time, he fell to his knees. I was compelled to offer some compassion and rose from my chair to kneel before him. I placed my hand upon his shoulder and his hand rose to cover my. The large hand was cold and clammy, I had shaken this man to his very core.

He began to weep. Suddenly I regretted my decision to bring him in my secret for an entirely different reason. I opened old wounds and tore new ones into the very fabric of his being. Despite everything that had happened before, and my original misgivings about him, I swore to myself that I would work harder to understand this man. We may never be on friendly terms, but I refuse to be hostile to him any longer. He doesn't deserve that.

I could hear Dumbledore rise from his seat, but I didn't look away from Snape's bent head and shoulders. Eventually the sobs stopped and I could feel his hand squeeze mine and his face rose to meet mine. He didn't speak, he didn't need to. His eyes showed with heart ache and pain, but also with gratitude towards my support.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." His apology startled me, and it showed. But he continued anyway.

"You didn't deserve my treatment, you never did. I held on to hatred for your father far too long and allowed it influence my opinion of you."

At those words, he rose slowly to his feet. Dumbledore must have conjured another chair while I was with Snape because the man in question threw himself bodily into it, clearly exhausted.

Dumbledore and I followed his lead and soon all three of us were settled down into our chairs. We sat in silence for a moments as Snape finished pulling himself back together. Snape was the first one to break the silence.

"Where do we go from here? I think I am caught up as I saw the conversation between the two of you after he arrived here" I looked to Dumbledore and he began to speak.

"Before we continue I must hold you to a vow a secrecy." Snape simply nodded and the vow was completed quickly and easily.

"Now," Dumbledore began again, "I believe that we must begin to adequately train Harry. If Voldemort again rises at the end of this year, we must be sure that it isn't simply blind luck that allows Harry to escape and return alive. I have already loaned Harry some of my more 'colorful' books from my collection. I would ask that you do the same Severus."

"Easily done Headmaster, but what about practical tutoring?"

I answered this question before Dumbledore had the chance to.

"I use the Room of Requirement for training It will configure to my needs, such as producing a lifelike dragon to spare against."

Snape leaned forward and spoke directly to me.

"What specifically would you be interested in learning?"

"Creative ways to take enemies out of action. I'll kill them if I have to. And I want to be able to do it wandlessly"

He nodded at this and took a piece of parchment and a quill from the desk before him and quickly began to write down what I assumed was book titles. He finished after a moment and summoned an elf. Passing the note on the to creature, he told him to collect the books from his rooms and deliver them to my trunk. With a nod the house elf vanished.

Turning his attention back to us, we spoke for several more hours into the night before eventually retiring for the night.

Six new books were in my trunk by the time I made it back to my room. Deciding against starting one tonight, I fell heavily into my bed. Darkness came quickly and soon I was unconscious.

I awoke before the sun only a few hours later. With a groan and the cracking of stiff joints, I rose slowly from bed and padded my way into the shower. Stripping bare, I stepped into the shower and used my wand to activate the flow of hot water. I sighed as the hot water flowed over the nape of my neck and my back, relaxing my muscles in the path of flow. Cleaning my body with care, I showered slowly. Once I was clean, I willed the water off and used my wand to cast a teeth cleaning and breath freshening charm. Being careful not to wake my room mates, I dressed quickly and descended the stairs into the common room. The clock on the wall told me it was only 5:37 in the morning, but the room already had an occupant.

The sight of the back of her head brought a smile to my lips.

"Hermione Granger, what brings you into the common room this early on a Saturday morning?" She turned towards me and smiled that soft smile that never failed to melt my heart a little every time I saw it.

"I could ask you the same thing Mr. Potter." She patted the cushion next to her on the couch and I gladly took the offered seat. I hadn't been able to speak with Hermione much in recent days and honestly, I missed the melodic sound of her voice.

"I couldn't go back to sleep. Plus I'm hungry, so I figured I would shower and get dressed then wait for breakfast." She laid her head on my shoulder after I sat down and her fingers interlocked with mine. This action by her wasn't uncommon while we were hunted the Horcruxes, especially after Ron left. But her to do this now sort of took me by surprise. I didn't complain though and settled down comfortably with her. She decided to pose a question to me.

"Do you have any ideas about what the second task is?"

"Not yet, I still haven't been able to get past that horrible screech it made the first time I opened it." I lied to see if she had any ideas or if she had figured it out yet. Plus, I didn't want to give her any clues as to my knowledge of future events.

She grimaced at the memory of the sound that it made at the celebration party the night after I got out of the infirmary.

"About that screech," She began "it almost sounds like when the Merpeople in the lake come above the water to fuss at students, so I took a trip to the library." Typical Hermione, I smiled as she continued to speak. "and it seems that their language is completely understandable if heard from under the water. Try listening to it in the bath. I think it would help."

My smile grew as I replied: "Sounds like a brilliant idea Hermione, thanks!"

And it really was a brilliant idea, the exact right one. No wonder I'm in love with my best friend.

Wait, I'm in love with my best friend?!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Thank you to everyone who has stuck by this story and put up with my year long hiatus. As always, I do not make any money from this adventure in JK's sandbox.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione's voice cut through my internal struggle and I looked deep into her eyes.

"I'm okay Hermione, just appreciating just how brilliant you are."

I'm rewarded with a large smile and she pulls me against her, hugging me tightly. I tensed for only a moment out of reflex, then I wrapped my arms around her and laid my head against the top of hers softly and took in the scent of her strawberry hair. I would have been content to stand there and hold her for eternity, but her stomach soon let its state of emptiness be known.

Hermione pulled away slowly, almost regretfully and smiled at me again.

"We better get down for breakfast."

I swallowed before I nodded my agreement.

Heading out of the common room, we quickly made our way to the hall and took our usual seats on the bench just as the food materialized in front of us.

Loading our plates, we ate in companionable silence as the hall slowly filled up with students and few teachers.

"What class do you have first this morning Hermione?" She swallowed her mouthful of egg before she answered me.

"I have arithmancy first this morning. What do you plan on doing?"

"I have a few new books that I want to take a look at, and maybe stop by the library and take a look for a book on merpeople."

Her eyes lit up when I mentioned the library and she quickly told me the title of the book she was researching earlier.

I smiled my thanks as she gathered up her bag so she could get to class. I watched her retreating form as she made her way out of the hall.

As she disappeared around the corner, my thoughts turned to my other supposed best friend. Even Ron no longer glared at me or called me a liar to my face, we haven't spoken on friendly terms since the night that this Harry got selected. That is different from my original time line, when I out flew the Hungarian Horntail, Ron all but came groveling back to me. I wonder why he hasn't repeated that performance this time around.

I think back to my fight with my dragon a few days prior and I'm struck with a sudden realization: he's scared of me. At least that's the best guess I have right now. In my original challenge, I out flew a dragon, I didn't kick the shit out of it. Ron knew that I was a damn good flyer before the challenge the first time around. So that wouldn't have shaken him too badly. But this time was different, I showed that I wasn't afraid of a dragon, I stood up to it. I crippled a dragon in front of the whole school. I didn't think what that would do to Ron's already weak ego. I've made him frightened of me. He put up a brave face and told everyone how his best mate had kicked a dragon's ass. But in spite of his bravado, he was scared shitless.

Probably the only reason he had this public change of heart was so that I wouldn't do to him what I did to the dragon. These thoughts brought Tom Riddle's voice to the forefront of my mind: "If you can't make them respect you, make them fear you."

His voice slithering across my consciousness sent a shiver like a lightning bolt down my spine.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, my mind leaves my body again and I find myself laying on the floor in the Atrium at the Ministry. I am fighting Lord Voldemort's presence in my mind. I am losing, badly. I can see Dumbledore kneeling before me as I writhe in pain trying to expel the foreign conscience from my mind. I hear his voice again, beckoning me.

"I offered you a choice in your first year Harry, I offer you the same choice now. Join me Harry, join me and rule as my right hand. Rain death and destruction upon a society that has turned its back on you again and again. They don't deserve saving, not one of them is worthy of magic. Only you and I, we understand that magic is far more than just a convenience. Its a power that we must use to exact our will, to shape the world in our vision. We can rebuild society, like a phoenix rising from its ashes, in our image."

I try to speak, I try to refute him, to refuse him, to turn away from him. But I don't have the strength to move, to speak, to do nothing but lay there and listen.

"How far will you go to defeat me Harry? There is no moral high ground in this fight, there is no 'lowering yourself to my level.' In this fight, it is kill or be killed. You will have to become that which you hate most in order to defeat me. And even if you do kill me, I will still win. You will always have that blood lust, I see it already. What you did to that dragon, you liked it? Didn't you? You don't need to tell me, I'm here in your head with you. I can see that you enjoyed it. You enjoyed over powering such a power creature, bringing it to its knees so to speak. You enjoyed when creature submitted to you. It was afraid for its life. You held its very essence in your hands, its very life force. You wanted to end it, the only reason you didn't was some misplaced sense of honor."

I could do nothing but stare and the face of a kneeling Dumbledore began to twist and morph, as if He had taken polyjuice. The skin twisted and drooped and seemed to melt, before the face that was staring at me was cold and cruel.

Now instead of grandfatherly concern in the form of Dumbledore, I am staring into a face of cruel mirth as Voldemort laughed viciously. He rose, drawing his wand as he did. The laughter died when he rose to his full height and pointed his wand towards my chest.

"Harry Potter will never be powerful enough to defeat me. AVADA KADAVRA!"

As the sickly green light touched my chest, I was forcibly brought back to the present. I was breathing heavily and thick cold sweat coated my body. Looking about quickly I breathed a sigh of relief to see that the great hall was empty now. I laid my forehead against my crossed arms on the table, trying to get my heart beat back under control. My breath came in gasps as I felt my body slump more and more against the table. My vision grew blurred and black around the edges as my eyelids grew heavy. It wasn't long before I lost all consciousness.

I don't know how long I sat at that table, unable to bring myself out of my catatonic state, when I was brought back to wakefulness. I awoke with a start and jumped as the magic worked its, well magic, and the enervate was successful in doing its job.

"Mr. Potter, are you alright? I couldn't wake you any other way." The thinly accented voice of Minerva McGonagall broke through the fog that settled around my shoulders.

"I'm fine professor, just tired is all." I smiled weakly up at her, but I could tell immediately that she wasn't convinced.

"Be that as it may, I must insist that you accompany me to the hospital wing to ensure that you are in good health. You have been under a lot of stress recently. I don't want you exhausting yourself unnecessarily."

I made to argue with her, but one stern look was still enough to get me to silence all protests. I gave a weary sigh and nodded my agreement. I stood from my table and followed her out of the hall.

The walk to the hospital wing was a quick and awkward affair. I could tell she wanted to press me further for more information, but she kept silent. I was content to follow her lead in that regard. Dumbledore and Snape were already too many people who knew my secret. I didn't see any point in telling the Scottish professor the real reason for my rather unfortunate nap.

We arrived at the door to the hospital wing in short order thanks to the brisk stride that the professor set on her way here. As I placed my hand on the knob to enter, she placed her hand against the door to stop me from opening it. Looking up to her face we made eye contact.

Now when someone attempts to read your memories, you can feel it, distinctly. When someone is just trying to read surface thoughts, its a much more subtle affair, and can vary greatly from wizard to wizard. Or witch to witch, which seems to be the case in the situation I find myself in currently. I can feel a very subtle but distinct feeling of calm over take my being and subconsciously, my muscles begin to relax. It doesn't take me long to realize what was happening and I slam my occlumency shields in place. Apparently Minerva is even worse at hiding surprise than I am. At least if her muttered "bloody hell." was anything to go on.

"Professor, no disrespect intended, but please, stay out of my mind." She smiled down softly at me and placed her hand on my shoulder.

"Mr. Potter, I know there is more going on than you just being tired. I am concerned for you. But I apologize for trying to gain insight into what is wrong with you. I only wish to help you. I will not attempt to read you again. I promise."

Her smile continues as she drops her hand from the door and allows me passage into one my least favorite rooms in the castle. She follows me into the spacious room just as Madam Pomfrey came out of her office to the left.

"Professor, Mr. Potter, what can I do for you? Have you managed to hurt yourself again?"

"No ma'am I am only tired and profess-."

"I found him passed out sitting at the Gryffindor table 10 minutes ago. The only thing that woke him up was an enervate. Clearly more is going on that simple tiredness."

I grimaced as the mediwitch nodded her agreement and began casting diagnostic charms all over my body. Her soft frown creasing more and more and she cast more and more spells.

"Mr. Potter, I daresay that you have gone beyond mere tiredness, your core is nearly depleted."

A frown crosses my face, I haven't used any magic in at least a few hours. I voice my confusion to the overzealous healer.

"Magical exhaustion can be a gradual process over a number of days. If you use large amounts of magic continuously, with only a few hours rest between, exhaustion is still going to settle in. Just at a slower rate, you aren't allowing your core recover all the magic you used, only a portion. So your over all level of magic is decreasing until your body can't take it anymore and your magic starts to react in unpredictable ways. How long have you been pushing yourself Mr. Potter, around a week I'm guessing."

"Er, well I have been training and practicing pretty hard since the beginning of term." I didn't miss the look of surprise that passed between the two women in front of me.

"Mr. Potter," the professor began, "how often are you using large amounts of magic?"

I rub the back of my neck in a nervous gesture.

"Almost every day, I have to be at my best to compete well in this tournament." I'm glad that have the tournament as cover for my training regiment.

"You're lucky you haven't fried your core."

The mediwitch takes my look of confusion at face value and begins to explain.

"Your magical core is like any muscle in your body, The more you use it, the stronger it becomes. But the harder you push yourself, the more sore you are afterwards, that also holds true for your core. Right now, your core is essentially very sore, and trying to recover. If you don't give your core time to repair itself and heal, you could destroy it. Like pushing a muscle so hard beyond what it can do, it explodes. What I'm trying to say Mr. Potter, is that you're lucky that you haven't turned yourself into a squib."

I can't help the look of mild surprise that crosses my face. I hadn't thought about my training in that context, I have to keep pushing myself. But I also have to be careful. I won't be able to save anyone if I turn myself into a squib.

The mediwitch's next words bring a true grimace to my face.

"I think I'll keep you here for a few nights so I can keep an eye on your core and ensure that is healing and recharging properly."

"Ma'am I really don't think that's neces-." She ignores my protests and all but pushes me to a bed in the back of the ward.

"I'll have complaints out of you Mr. Potter, what would your adoring fans do to me if I allowed you to turn yourself into a squib."

If it all possible, that last statement made my grimace deepen. But one look at Madam Pomfrey's face tells me that I wont get anywhere with her about this. So with a sigh, I transfigure my robes into something more comfortable to lay down in and pull my body into the bed that she moved me to.

I hope this is the only time that I have to be in this wing this year.

But something tells me, that even with all my knowledge of the future I'd best be getting comfortable being in this bed.

That night brings a bit of reprieve from the boredom of the Hospital wing in the form of Hermione. The sight of her stops thoughts of ways to kill merpeople, and brings a smile to my face.

"Hey Hermione." She sits next to me in the chair that always seems to be there when you need it, as if by magic or something.

"Hey Harry, Professor McGonagall let me know that you were here and why. I didn't know that you could exhaust yourself into being a squib."

"I didn't either, I knew you could increase your stamina but I didn't know that there was some sort of terminal limit in the amount of magic you could cast. I just always thought a good nights rest fixed that sort of thing."

"I'm surprised that that idea isn't taught here." She worries her lip between her teeth as she tries to think of a good reason as to why it wouldn't be." I had had plenty of time to consider that exact question this afternoon, so I provide the best answer I can come up with.

"I think that for most average witches and wizards, it isn't ever a problem. Think about it Hermione, how often had you ever had to go all out and push your magic to its absolute limit? Never, and for most people, that is true. People don't go around tossing spells around that require lots of energy, and even if they do, you don't keep casting after your exhausted. It takes a lot of focus and discipline to be able to cast through that. Focus and discipline that a lot of magical folk lack. I almost destroyed my magic because I want to push myself hard enough to be able to stand against Voldemort. I can't stop at 'just okay' I have to push myself as hard as I possibly can. I have to be able to protect all those that I care about." I pause and I only meant to say it in my head but I whisper quietly, "I have to be able to protect you."

I feel her arms wrap around my neck and she pulls me close against her chest. I didn't realize that a few tears had fallen until I could feel the wet spots I was leaving on her blouse. Years worth of built up pain bubble to the surface and I can't hold the torrent back anymore as a sob escapes my lips.

I don't know how long Hermione held me against her breast, but she was there the entire time I needed her, the entire time I cried for my losses, for the losses of the Weasley's for the losses that young Teddy would have to endure. I cried for all those that I couldn't save.

Through out the entire event and long after the sobs had turned to hiccups, Hermione softly stroked the back of my head and ran her fingers through my hair. When even the hiccups ended, I could hear her heartbeat, and her breathing. When emotional and magical exhaustion finally caught up to me and I submitted myself to the blackness. I was warm in the embrace of my best friend. I hadn't felt this safe and comforted in years, maybe ever.


End file.
